Friday, June 5, 2009, is a momentous day. 

On that day my son graduates from high school.  I tell you what (Texas saying), I’m gonna need a truck-load of tissues.

In fact, I can’t even blog about it without shedding tears.

My goal, as a mom, is to raise my children so that they venture into the world as somewhat sane,  well-adjusted, and happy people (aren’t those lyrics to an REM song?). 

Now that it’s ‘bottom of the 9th’, I want to take it all back.  I don’t want my baby going so far away where I’ll worry about him, even more than I do now.  I don’t want him to be hungry, get hurt or struggle for anything.  I don’t want to miss his daily soliloquies.  

Now that I’m face-to-face with the ‘end’ of parenthood, I don’t want him to leave at all.

This is my baby who was born to a teen-aged mom who had no clue how to keep him alive.  This is my son who I raised, not by myself, but with the help of a ‘village’ of friends.  This is my child who inspired me to go to college, and better my career, so he’d be proud of me.  This is my mischievous imp who caused trouble then flashed that ‘sunshine-grin’ which forced me to crumple him in my arms in forgiveness.  This is my boy who is so much like me that he knew (and knows) exactly which buttons to push that sent my temper to the moon. This is my kiddo that lovingly held his baby sisters, who may miss him even more than I.

My child, my baby, now an adult. 

This is a such a wonderful life event…why do I feel like a part of my has died?

Please pass the tissue(s)…

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